


Demon Days

by charrrrmer, ItsMurdocsBand (orphan_account)



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: 2d - Freeform, 2doc - Freeform, Gorillaz OCs, Inspired by Roleplay/Roleplay Adaptation, OCs - Freeform, ace - Freeform, cyborg, murdoc - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2020-01-06 01:46:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18378410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charrrrmer/pseuds/charrrrmer, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ItsMurdocsBand
Summary: “You owe me your soul.”So. One day January 2019 I decided I wanted to play an RPG. I never GM’d before but fuck dude, somebody had to do it. So I assembled some lovely friends who all happened to be wonderful writers and together we set off on a Gorillaz themed journey full of demons, ufo cults, evangelists, conspiracies, and prison breaks, (and 2Doc) and now I’m sharing that journey with you...





	1. The Tavern and The Prison

**Author's Note:**

> Aless is City (New90)  
> Lyanna is Ashe (Ashenee),  
> Blythe is Charm (Dezasaurus_Rex)  
> Para is Sarah (hesitantfox @ insta)  
> Sheep is Zurich (dredgcn @twitter)  
> Everybody else is Ana (itsmurdocsband)

Prologue: 

Cyborg was a simple being back then on that floating hunk of plastic all those years ago when she, Murdoc and 2D ran from something she didn’t fully understand. She didn’t understand a lot of things, only what she was minimally programmed too and her brief life experience so far. But the night she stood guard while Murdoc slept after passing out drunk in the bunker in the cent of the new island Kong she learned more than most of the planet will ever learn. Across the room sat a thick salmon colored book Murdoc found important enough to place on a pedestal where he read it every day. She had no point of reference to understand the way and reason he had fits of despair and self-destruction for as long as she’d known him but she knew, at least in part, it had something to do with that book. So that night she read it. All of it. And she never forgot. Because a cyborg never forgets. 

______

A green man in a suit, dabbing his forehead with a cloth, sweats and screams at a podium, “Your soul belongs to God whether you turn it over to him or not!! Your soul was created by God! Your soul will be used by God! And if you don’t -Amen- and if you don’t turn that soul back over to God it will be CONSUMED! Consumed by the devil, consumed by the flames of hell! Who's ready to give their soul to the savior! Today, yes sir, today, save your soul, give to God almighty and escape the devil! Amen! If you’re ready on this beautiful Sunday. Come on up here, in witness, in witness of the Lord.” He gestures to the large stain glass image of Jesus behind him. The camera cuts to show the pews where people rise from there seats and form a line in front of the stage, “We’re gonna pray over you today!” 

Alessandra Mascio lays comfortably in her bed, laptop perched on her thighs. Her camera battery charges on the desk beside her as she clicks through the mostly unusable shots of LA B-listers. Those endeavors were nearly never as lucrative as her technically illegal activities. She sighed and lifted her eyes to the noise on the television. There are only sounds of the crowd shuffling in their line waiting to be saved, until finally a disembodied woman’s voice gently says, “That was a recording of a wonderful service by guest preacher Clarence E. Church. You can purchase this recording and more by calling in or on our website shown on screen now. You too can give your life to Christ today.”

"Christ can fuck off..." Aless changes the channel with a spitefully hard mash on the remote. 

“Sorry, my bandmates can’t be with me. I’m detained by your mag. Not the American mag! Our Britain mag. Thanks to all the fab artist, management, Phil the driver, Keith my Zumba teacher, Sid the Psycho Smith, My friend Axel. Harry. Jack the Hat. Sirus the Zirus. Big Balls Mcguinness, No Balls Mcguinness. Loa-”

“That was the footage broadcast to the Brit awards 4 months ago and since then social media has remained abuzz about the fate of Gorillaz bassist, Murdoc Niccals...The conversation grew even larger when the band revealed they were replacing the incarcerated Niccals with ex-childhood actor Ace Copular... Turning to twitter we see one user says ‘Let him rot. He’s problematic and smells bad.’” She chuckles as she reads the proctor and looks over at her cohost incredulously. 

“Harsh,” He chuckles back.

“Yes, but still he’s seeing lots of support through the hashtag ‘Free Murdoc’”

Alessandra’s interest was piqued. Celebrity drama always sounded potentially lucrative. She unlocks her phone and opens Twitter. One hand scrolls while the other props her tired head on her knee, fingers weaved through wavy, burgundy hair. She finds this Murdoc Niccal’s profile and a tweet just posted that reads, “HELLO? ... is anybody out there"

\------

"I don't give a shit if he's in jail! He said he fired his manager! Get me a phone call with him Josh, or you're fired!" Lyanna Moore, a small native woman with tight almond curls, clicks the disconnect button and slams her phone down on the table. "Christ, why do I have to do everything?" She mumbles as she grabs a bottle of wine and pours herself a large glass. She savors her drink before the phone she’d just dramatically dismissed rings. She gives a heavy sigh and picks it up, “What?”

“Look, I’ll do my best with the Gorillaz thing, but how about this for now. You know they’re guitarist... the one that’s apparently a robot?” 

Lyanna tapes her nails on the table, “She’s not in the band anymore is she?”

“Well. No, not really. She’s in her own band, The Rejects... and she’s playing at a bar tonight, Tavern 23.”

“Hm. From being in a band that played at The Apollo to a bar, that’s rough.” Lyanna sips to the bottom of her glass. 

“... If I’m not mistaken... they’re not signed.”

“Josh, you’re an angel.” She hangs up on her assistant once again with enthusiasm, hurriedly looking for her bag and setting out into the warm LA evening. 

\------

LA bars with their pretentious rustic airs were nothing like the true dives of Brooklyn Blythe was used to. With her leather jacket, relaxed black mohawk and pierced face, she sticks out anywhere, but even more so here. She sips her beer, eats her small order of fries, and watches curiously out of the corner of her eye a large blue man setting up a keyboard. For a night with a band playing the building isn’t exactly packed, in fact with so few people it’s almost awkwardly quiet. She’s grateful when the music finally starts. 

The big guy stands behind a keyboard that also functions as a drum machine and sings into a mic. Standing behind her own mic, with a guitar strapped over her shoulder is a much smaller woman.  
The man’s voice is... interesting. Unique. It's deep with an untrained "charm" and his fingers are clunky on the keys. The real star is the woman. Sharp metal jutting from her forehead frames a bullet hole and her white-streaked bangs hang beside it. She looks tired. There is a strange metallic undertone in her voice. She offers back up vocals but nothing you hear overshadows the expertise of her guitar playing. It's powerful and perfect. Angry yet moving.

Blythe grins. It occurs to her that she might not be entirely human. Despite her unsettling looks, she finds the way she plays downright hot and considers striking up something later in the night.

Lyanna arrives soon enough to catch the last half of the set. She’s impressed in a different way. The woman was rockstars, something she could definitely work with. Ordering a drink, she watches and wonders if she could convince Cyborg to drop the awkward lead man. When the show ends and Cyborg approaches the bar, she perches herself ready to make her move. 

"Hey there, quite a show you put on. Have you ever considered going big?" Lyanna gives her saleswoman smile. 

Blythe sees she’s missed her chance for now, and quietly nurses her beer as she eavesdrops. 

Cyborg gives Lyanna a subtle smirk in return. "It's not like I'm playing just for my health... Going 'big' is the point isn't it?" She turns to the bartender, “Water.” 

Lyanna grins, "Good point! You have quite a talent, more than this little tavern deserves. I can't believe you haven't yet. Was it poor management or...?" She trails off as she takes a sip of her drink.

Cyborg snorted and mumbled, "poor management." under her breath. "Something like that..." Her gaze focuses off behind Lyanna and her tired express turns to rage, "Speak of the devil."

Blythe and Lyanna both follow her gaze and immediately catch the sight of blue hair, followed behind by green skin and slick black hair. 2D looks around with his nose turned up, his eyes are fully white. 

“Aye, CN.” Ace notices Cyborg.

“Fuck off, Ace.” She hisses. 

He frowns, shrugs and takes a seat. 

“‘dis what you do now, Cy? You rip off my band and play for tips like some bloody vagabond?” 2D looks disgruntled as he grabs a claw-full of chips off Blythe's plate without looking, getting ketchup on his fingers in the process. His expression doesn’t waver as he chews and then sticks his fingers in his mouth, one by one.

Blythe yells in indignation as her fries are sullied, "Hey! Asshole!" She stands and walks further down the bar, making sure to stay close enough to hear. She folds her arms across her chest.

“What do you want, Stu?” Cyborg narrows her eyes in disgust. 

“Nuff’in. What could I want from the likes of you? I’m meetn’ a journalist ‘ere. You know. Cause I’m famous and all.” He notices the bartender and orders is own fries.

“Yeah, you were real FAMOUS when we met, Tusspot. When I had to tie your shoes for you and launder your sheets every night with you soiling them like a fucking 2-year-old.”

Lyanna finally finds a place to inject, "You... must be 2D and Ace from Gorillaz correct?” She takes note but chooses to ignore his dickish behavior, “Actually.... she," Lyanna points to Cyborg, "and I here were just chatting and discussing about getting her a record deal." she knew they weren't quite there yet, but maybe the comment could be a good segue... and good jab to the singer she was already not a fan of. 

Ace leans across the counter and offers a hand to Lyanna, "Moore? I've heard of you." He smiles warmly. "That's lucky, very lucky, CN. I've heard good things about this lady."

"Well, thank you, Ace." She says, shaking his hand. "That's great to hear, glad my reputation precedes me." 

It seems like the nicer Ace is, the more put off Cyborg is. "Yeah! It is lucky! I'm just one big good luck charm, huh? Why don't you guy wear my foot around like a keychain! oh. that's right. You DID do that!" She snarled at 2D. The intimating blue figure now stands behind her.

Blythe, inching closer, notices 2D’s fries have arrived before he does and makes her presence known by snagging a few fries from his tray, "Wow, I guess LA really is full of asshole celebrities." The arrogant idiot doesn’t seem to notice at all. 

Lyanna is steaming with anger, hoping 2D can tell, but when she watches the black-clad stranger's bold act a smirk forms on her lips. She wouldn't be able to talk to him about managing. She knew she’d need to deal with the lead man, Murdoc. It was on her ever ambitious list, including now helping Cyborg. She turns her back to them to resume her conversation with Cyborg. "Man... that guys a dick..." she grabs her drink once more. “So... about the whole record deal... interested?" She asked, eyeing Cyborg. "You could possibly top the charts above them..” 

Cyborg stares at 2D intensely as she replies, "I'm open to it...”

Lyanna wears a shit-eating grin for a fraction of a second but quickly hides it, staying professional. She clears her throat and grabs a business card out of her purse. She hands it to Cyborg. "Perfect. I could see you going far, believe me, hon. Wipe that smirk off that idiot...” She reaches into her purse, “...take my card " Cyborg does so and Lyanna looks at the big guy. "Now... is he part of your deal?"

Cyborg’s eyes narrow. She looks behind at Frank, “What do you think?" He shrugs. 

"Hey, can I ask where you learned to play?" Blythe found her in after quietly making her way over to the cyborg and more interesting things than a pretentious frontman. 

Cyborg turning to face the sudden question, “Where!?... well. I mean. my uh..." She rolled her eyes to the ceiling in thought, trying to find an easy answer, "My dad taught me?" Something clearly startles her, stopping her from clarifying. She reaches for her phone in her pocket.

Blythe grins, "Oh, cool!" Her eyebrow arched in curiosity as she watches Cyborg look at her screen. 

Over her shoulder Lyanna catches a glimpse. A tweet. A picture of Murdoc Niccals in an orange jumpsuit. 

\------

PA142r9a stand at her post dutifully, watching the names and numbers floating above the faces she recognizes from a database larger than any human mind could ever memorize. She stays alert for that little green bar to turn red when she’d swoop in and place a hand on a large furious frame.. and make him green again. That's her job. That's all she knows. She sees a man approaching and sees his mood is an irritable orange. But his face is classified differently from the prisons she’s been tasked with subduing. This is a coworker. 

"Here." He shoves something into her chest. "Go make yourself useful and cataloged this contraband." It’s a cellphone. A smartphone specifically, not particularly common when it comes to the types of phones prisoners tend to smuggle. 

She mechanically nods her head and begins to follow the order. After taking a few steps she takes a look down and pauses, curious about what she’s suddenly noticed the item is. She explores it to see if it can be turned on. There are colorful rounded squares. She clicks one and is immediately confronted with rows of images of skin. Skin that’s typically covered. PA6RIA isn’t quite sure what she’s looking at or the point of it, but it looks a bit like what her supervisor described to her when he told her what the prisoners SHOULDN’T do. It makes the human parts of her body feel a bit weird.

She returns the phone to her pocket and makes her way down a hallway of cells until she feels a vibration against her leg. It wasn’t an unusual feeling to be torn between a sense of curiosity and an urge to follow orders like the feeling she had then. She stops in front of a cell and retrieved the phone once again but before she can figure out the cause for the vibration she hears a voice from the cell beside her. 

“Oi, love, lemme borrow that. Ju-just 3 seconds, yeh? I'll sign something, anything you like!”

It’s him. The prisoner she’d had her eye on for a while now. Ever since she’d heard of his fame from her human coworkers and more importantly that he was someone who had experience with cybernetics. Murdoc Niccals. 

“What do you need it for? There is nothing of interest on there, except for some images of human genitalia.” 

He grins "Oh, nice one. No. I-uh- need to make a call... Now be a good 'Borg, and toss it 'ere."

PA142r9a remembers there was a rule about not carelessly giving things to prisoners so she hesitates. “I should not give you this Item. It is against the rules.” Then she realizes this was her opportunity to ask what she’d been meaning to ever since he arrived at Wormwood Scrubs. She steps closer to the cell and asks him in a quiet voice, “Do you know how to repair a brain?”

Murdoc squints, “Who wants to know?”

“... Me.”

His serious expression breaks with a small smirk, "I'll grow you a whole new sodding brain once I'm out of here if you hand me that phone."

She feels a bit weird in his presence, but can’t help but trust him. Maybe because he’s very charming compared to anyone else in this prison. She looks around, coast clear, and hands him the phone. "When will you repair my brain then?"

He ignores her, immediately typing in a number. He mumbles under his breath, “Come on, Stu.” then curses when the call isn’t answered. 

She starts to feel fearful when it occurs to her this might have been a terrible mistake, "you didn't answer my question. If you can not repair my brain, give back the item please."

He holds up a bony finger, "No, I can, I can. wait." He dials another number. Scowling at the ground and impatiently tapping his foot. This time you can hear an enthusiastic voice coming out of the phone. 

"Hey, buddy! How's it going?" 

"Ace?" Murdoc places he hand to his head in relief, "I-"

"Ooohh Yeah?"

"Y-yeah." Murdoc looks confused. "Ace, You-"

"Well, that's just really great, Pal!"

"..... Ace?" 

"Why don't you leave your name and number and you can tell me more about it later!" 

Murdoc looks like he's about to throw the phone in outrage.

PA142r9a notices he's getting angry and reaches her hand through the bars to place a finger on his forehead under his fringe."What is going on? Tell me."

He looks at her confused but his face slowly becomes neutral. He calmly moves back from her touch and looks back down at the phone. He begins to type away at it. Many more taps then it takes to dial a number. "I'm just gonna... try something else."

"No, you are going to tell me what is going on or I will have to take the Item back with force," She says, threateningly holding up my fingers. "I am still a prison guard and have control over you."

"Here!" He hands the phone back to her. "Take a picture of me looking miserable!"

She’s confused, he doesn’t seem to be in a very miserable mood, but since he gave her the phone back, she feels more in control. "What do you mean? What should I do?"

"Just press the button! Right there on the screen! ... and hurry, I think a guard is coming."

"A guard?" She starts to panic, quickly pressing the button, effectively taking a picture of the floor. She puts the cellphone back into her pocket, then turns around to see where the guard is. 

He eyes them both as he walks past. "Everything alright over here, Para?"

"Yes, everything's alright, sir." His question was open-ended enough for her lie. Sure, she was breaking rules, but that isn’t what he asked. Yeah, everything was “alright”.

He walks away. When he's out of earshot Murdoc whispers, "Alright now back to me calling on the support of my adoring fans... Hand the phone back, love."

She looks at him confused, not sure what he means by that. "I thought you wanted me to take a picture of you? Did I do it?"

"I don't know, give me the phone."

“And you are really going to repair my brain afterward?”

He sighs, "What do you want me to do... I'm a prisoner!"

"... Maybe I can find a way to get you out." She realizes how crazy she sounds as soon as she hears herself.

He takes back the phone with a smile and then frowns again when he holds it up to take his own picture. "That's perfect. You be my little helper around here and help me clear my name, and your brain is good as fixed... I guess. Whatever you want." He presses some keys before handing the phone back, "Hold on to this for me so it doesn't get taken forever at some random search..." 

"As you wish." Para’s still not sure how to deal with the way he talks to her or what to think of him, but she takes back the phone and stores it in her pockets quickly as she notices a guard begin to circle again. After a final nod to Murdoc, she starts back down the hall with a little skip in her step, with a renewed hope that maybe one day soon she’ll actually get her memories back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustrations from this chapter, by Sarah and I respectively:  
>   
>   
> (Ignore how happy Aless looks. She's never that happy.)


	2. The Demon and The Hunter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aless is City (New90)  
> Lyanna is Ashe (Asheness),  
> Blythe is Charm (Dezasaurus_Rex)  
> Para is Sarah (hesitantfox @ insta)  
> Sheep is Zurich (dredgcn @twitter)  
> Everybody else is Ana (itsmurdocsband)

A relatively small truck pulls into the tavern parking lot, transmission clunking as its gears shift from D to P, parking in the furthest spot from any lights. All black, its well hidden. "Remind me to check that noise later," A green-skinned woman with long black hair says to no one in particular, nudging the driver side door open with the tip of a brown combat boot. She slips Tommy the tomahawk into her belt holster and heads for the tavern door. It was... she checked the cracked screen of her latest burner... 8:02. Yea, Benny's shift started at 7, he'd definitely be at the counter waiting for her. With a shit eating grin on her face she put her boot up on the door handle and yells, "BEEEENNNAAYY! You start my sour yet, kid?" Kicking the door open with enough force to crash it into the adjacent wall.

The whole bar turns to the noise. After the initial shock Blythe smiles. The woman at the door reminded her of all her favorite patrons at her regular bar back in Brooklyn, but it's not until she strolls further into the light that Blythe realizes that this is the demon hunter she'd come here to find.

Sheep stumbles through the doorway, regains her balance, and skip walks to the bar, where Benny is indeed waiting with her "sour". "Thanks, kid." She says, plopping heavily onto a stool and taking the glass from his hands with a yank, spilling a bit on the table and taking a long swig. "Better get started on the second one, Benny-boy. S'been a long night." She pulls her jacket sleeve down to wipe up the mess she made on the counter, and swings around to survey the bar. Hmmm. Bands, the usual. A pretty girl with some wicked black and white hair. Nothing catches her eye quite like the whiskey in her hand though.

Blythe turns back to Cyborg, inwardly lamenting having to cut their conversation short, "Hey, look, it's been really great to meet you, and I hope we get to talk more later!" She shoots a glance around to see where the demon hunter had sat down. She turns back to Cyborg to see her still staring at her phone screen, her expression dejected. Blythe frowns and tries to peek at the cause for her change in mood but Cyborg quickly puts her phone away and scowls at the invasion.

Meanwhile, Lyanna rolls her eyes at the woman’s shameless display. She turns to the big guy, “So I didn’t catch your name.”

“Frank.” He grunts. 

“Frank, great... My names Lyanna.” She offers a handshake. He doesn’t reciprocate. Lyanna squints her eyes at the massive man. She'd try to see if she can get the big bastard to talk, if not oh well. "Hey! Listen, you're shy, I get it. People love that. I'm just going to give you my card as well and if you have any questions you are more than welcome to call! I already gave Cyborg my card so she can too. You've both got great talent, I can't wait to see it on the charts, yeah?" She sets her card on the table... He says nothing. Lyanna, getting frustrated, just continues to smile. "Well, I can see you are doing just fine, I'll leave you alone. Have a great night!" She says quickly, walking away. She turns and has her eye on 2D and Ace. 2D, like Cyborg, is staring at his phone, a twisted unreadable look on his face. Lyanna wonders if she should try talking to them or not and first decides to go back to the bar and orders another drink. If she is going to talk to 2D, she needs more alcohol.

Sheep doesn't realize she's zoning out in the direction of the B&W haired girl until she sees her angrily hide her phone from a nearby bar-goer. Leaving her second empty glass on the counter as a sign to Benny to start another, she saunters a couple seats over to see what's going on. 70% out of nosiness, 30% because she's pretty and it's been awhile since her last drive in, if you know what she means.

She sits herself casually onto the stool backwards between the two girls and stretches both arms out behind her on the counter, her eyes whiskey lidded and smiles. "This one bothering you, hun?" She smirks and points a thumb at Blythe. 

Cyborgs eyes become wide at the sight of Sheep, almost fearful. She takes a breath, "I'm fine..." She awkwardly moves between the two rugged women to get her water off the bar and slips away back to Frank.

Blythe grins at Cyborg again, "Didn't mean any harm." She turns to the woman between them, "Sheep, right?" She fixes on the green woman with a guarded stare, "Funny running into you here, considering you're the reason I'm in this pisshole city." She waves to the bartender and orders another beer, "I've got a business proposition for you."

Sheep turns around in her stool immediately, squinting at the girl in front of her. "Every pisshole got a few diamond earrings dropped into them on accident, yeah? Tavern 23 is more like a block of zircon though!" She giggles drunkenly at her own dad joke. Then her eyes turn hard. "Yea, I'm Sheep. What about it? Who sent you?" Her hand lays on her upper thigh, thumb on Tommy's handle.

Blythe eyes Sheeps hand at it reaches for her weapon. Her friendly demeanor dropping a few degrees, "No one sent me." She takes a long drink of her beer to give her a moment to work around the intimidation radiating from the other woman, "I work for myself, by myself..." she glances at Sheep from the corner of her eye, "...usually."

Sheep squints a little harder, then sighs. Her hand is still on her upper thigh but her shoulders drop visibly. "I mean, who told you I'd be here in Angel City? Was it Mike? Bastard. Told him to lay off the jobs for a bit..." she trails off, obviously talking to herself at this point, a shifty look in her eye. Realizing her high was wearing off fast, she claps a clawed hand on Blythe's shoulder. "Can we uh.. hurry this up a bit? Gotta take a trip to the bathroom and.. powder my nose, hm?"

Blythe works very hard not to roll her eyes as she pulls out her phone, "Give a number where I can reach you," she wasn't put off by the drug use, but she knew from her own past experimentation that nothing productive would likely be done tonight, "Best not to go over the details in public anyway."

Lyanna decides 'fuck it' and downs the rest of her drink and walking over to the fraction of Gorillaz. "Hey, mind if I sit and chat before that journalist comes over? I had a question for you two gentlemen actually." She gives them her sweetest smile.

She nearly causes 2D to jump out of his chair as he puts his phone away, then scowls down at his fries. Ace smiles back at her, "Sure, pal."

She grins and sits down next to him. "Ace, you're a sweetheart. So... how's everyone doing tonight? I noticed no Noodle or Russel, they must be off doing their own thing, yeah? Do you guys come here often?" She was curious how close they were with Cyborg while also trying to get a little familiar instead of just blatantly asking about the manager issue.

"Well, I think they can get a little tired with questions, you know what I mean?... Especially about Murdoc." 

2D interrupts him, "'Ah 'ate this place, actually... Ace, 'as it been 15 minutes? If she's late 15 minutes we're legally allowed to leave.”

Lyanna squints her eyes at 2D for a moment, wondering if he was truly like that or it was an act. She then puts on her best smile. "Ah... you know... if you hate this place, your manager should take better care of you. I usually only schedule the very best places for my clients to have an interview, of all things. Where ever you want and are most comfortable of course. You're all big stars, you should only get the best right?"

Ace responds, "It was my call... I heard Cyborgs new band was playing. I never really got acquainted with her before she disappeared. I guess I wanted an excuse." He laughed.

2D has taken his phone back out and is playing with it, "What’s to know? She's just a smelly robot."

Lyanna nodded and frowned at 2D. "That's nice of you Ace. And 2D... I thought you two would be friends, didn't you spend all that time on the island together? With Murdoc?" She asked. She wasn't a fan of 2D treating Cyborg like that and she was curious as to why. She figured it was the perfect time to do some digging as they all seemed to not have anything better to do.

2D looks at her like there's something disgusting between her eyes, 'Yeh, as a prisoner! At gunpoint. 'Er gunpoint!... She's never apologized by the way..." He said that last part louder and pointed in Cyborgs direction, "I've got too much respect fu' mehself now a days to just let that go."

Lyanna lifted a brow curiously and gave Ace a quick glance. "So... if she apologized would you feel better? Did Murdoc ever apologize? You worked with him again..."

"Sure 'e 'as" 2D stuffs a bundle of fries into his mouth and complains through the mash, "S'neva ment shite." He eyes Lyanna, "You're not a tabloid writer, are you? I didn't consent to this." 

She furrowed her brows at 2D. "Then why still work with him?" She looks at Ace for an answer as well. He raises his brows but gave no response. "And no, I'm a manager... remember? I'm signing Cyborg up for a record deal?" She frowned, wondering how anyone dealt with this guy for long periods of time. 

"Well, I'm not, now am I?" He snaps, "Bastards in jail and I've made an album all on my own." 

Someone new enters the bar. The stranger wore a floral scarf around her head, that tucked under and covered much of the lower part of her face as well. Her huge black sunglasses did the job of covering practically the rest. Her bright red lips stuck out like a bright red thumb. Covering her hands were leather gloves, and the rest of her body, a slim brown coat. She looks around, or at least it seems she does, it's hard to tell where her gaze falls through her glasses. She approaches 2D and Ace. 

"This place is shit. Wasn't supposed to be this many people... Sorry if they're bothering you." She gives Lyanna what she assumes must be a side eye but impossible to tell through her sunglasses. 

Lyanna put on a charming smile, slightly offended by her tone. "Well, you just missed Cyborg Noodle play. She was quite spectacular. Most of us showed up on time so... I was chatting with them while they waited for you. Are you cold, or....?"

“... We have business.” She doesn’t even look at Lyanna.

Blythe is sipping her beer and scrolling idly through her phone when the door opens and she sees two women enter. She laughs quietly at the one who is so obviously trying to be incognito but really just looks like a fool. She watches as she approaches the group at the end of the bar, then turns her attention to the second woman who doesn't appear to be with the others. She hangs back and leans against a far wall, looking around the bar mouse-like. Blythe notices the camera around her neck and begins to feel a bit nervous. Ending up in the background of a paparazzi photo would only give away her location to too many eyes. She couldn't have that, so she quickly turns away from the photographer, making a plan to leave as soon as the doorway was clear.

Sheep leans against the bathroom sink, a hand on either side, examining her own face closely in the mirror. She watches her pupils dilate and then closes her eyes to the inevitable headrush. As her senses heighten she hears some muffled voices from outside the bathroom door, … “our album”.... “excuse me, we have business...” she blinks a couple times, shaking her head, then rolls her eyes at the woman’s snobbish tone. She left the bathroom to find Benny had left her another whiskey on the counter. Perfect. Eyeing down the very noticeable blue haired rockstar, she decided to make her way to the conversation, accidently tripping over her own foot and tumbling into their conversation, whiskey splashing down the front of journalist. That really was an accident, but seeing as she was probably the source of the bitchy tone... it was whatever.

"Oh, Christ!" She screams, trying to shake the liquid off with her gloved hands. 

That's when Sheep notices something about her. Something sinister. An energy she was all too familiar with. Her eyes widen, she’s glad she just took a hit, she’s ready. Her drunken, bumbling demeanor changes immediately, jumping back a bit and gripping Tommy’s handle, not yet pulling him out of the holster on her thigh.The woman’s too upset to notice she quickly turns and makes her way to the bathroom. 

Blythe uses the commotion from the other group as a cover and quickly makes her way out the door and glances around the parking lot, patting her pockets for a pack of cigarettes, even though she'd quit smoking years ago. She's not quite ready to leave, considering she has nowhere to go, and leans against her truck, enjoying the warm California night.

Lyanna is startled by a sudden sound of a camera shutter and turns to see Aless standing beside her. "Good lord, you're like a shadow. What are you doing here?!" She gives a small chuckle at the pleasant surprise of a friend. 

Aless takes a few more shots of the bundled woman scurrying away and the green woman fingering her weapon, "Nice to see you too. You know why I'm here." She continues to snap pictures of the green woman aggressively pushing her way into the bathroom behind her and Ace jumping to his feet. 

“Hey buddy, I don’t think Ms.Bronze asked for an escort!” Ace bangs at the door. It’s enough to startle and distract Sheep while the woman whirls around and aiming a knife at her chest. Sheep manages to dodge and her knife stabs the door. She took her opportunity to pull Tommy from his holster, ready him in her left hand, and flick open the cap of her holy water flask with the right.

Bronze pulls her knife from the door, her scarf has slipped from her head and her glasses fallen to the ground in her clumsy lunge. There are raised black veins on her ash grey-moss face, snaking from her scalp to her mouth and bright red eyes like a fungus. She returns her knife to her pocket and begins to remove a glove.

Everyone in the tavern hears the commotion, including Blythe just outside. Part of her says to get out of there, but a louder part reminds her that if Sheep gets hurt or killed she wouldn't be much help getting rid of the demon that's after her. She unclips the strap holding her knife in its holster and makes her way back into the tavern.

There she sees Ace trying to open the bathroom door and everyone in the tavern staring at him, obviously concerned. Sheep and the overdressed woman are missing. She makes the obvious conclusion and heads to the bathroom until Cyborg pushes past her and runs up to Ace, “Move!” 

With the demon now fully exposed Sheep mumbles, "Okay, not a person." and smiles wildly. "Tommy, permission to kill." She lunges forward, flipping Tommy in her hand and grabbing him right under the blade, punching towards the side of Bronze's neck in a left hook motion. When Bronze tries to move, Tommy instead travels to bury itself deep in her arm. She let out a nightmarish scream as the bathroom door is kick off its hinges. 

"Fuck!" Sheep jumps back out of the spray of broken wood. It's the guitar playing cyborg. "Damn! What are you doing you're gonna let it o---" she starts before noticing the demon crumpled to the ground in pain. "...Nevermind." she says flatly, laughing as she lunged in quickly and pinned the demon to the ground with her knee, pushing it's head to the linoleum with her right hand, and quickly bringing Tommy's blade down onto her neck.She severed an artery and blood gushing on to her face... and if that wasn't enough brain matter splash on to her as well as a bullet to the demons head removes all question of her status of life. Sheep turns her head to see Cyborg's disturbingly crazed face, the barrel of a gun shaped out of her arm. Inches away, there was no chance she would miss.

There are screams from the patrons as many of them run out, including Ace and 2D. Aless drops her camera, the strap around her neck saves it from smashing. She stumbles back into Lyanna, who grasps her shoulder and stares in horror at the scene. All those remaining in the tavern saw the demon’s body disappear into thin air. 

Blythe wants to relax, the battle over, but the gunshot rings in her ears and leaves her stunned. She begins to back away in shock, images from her past springing to the forefront of her mind. A quick glance at the bar, however, kicks her into gear as she spots the bartender speaking frantically to someone on the phone. "Fuck..." she mutters to herself as she puts her knife away, turns and practically sprints for the door and to her truck. 

Sheep stares down the barrel of Cyborg’s gun and then slowly raises her hand to push it down and away. She stands, "Listen, I have to get the FUCK outta here before any police show up. I would've been long gone by now if you hadn't burst in like the predator..." She maneuvers around Cyborg and heads for the door while the tavern stares. There she pauses to turn to Cyborg and puts her index and pinky fingers out and waved them near her ear, "Call me sometime." 

"Wait!" Cyborg follows her into the dark parking lot, "I need to know what the fuck just happened... Are a demon hunter or just a psychopath?"

Sheep stops in her tracks, hand on the door handle of her Black Ford Ranger. She can't not respond, god what is with this cyborg. Smiling a famous Sheep's shit eating grin, she says, "Maybe a little bit of both at this point, kid. I wouldn't have killed them if I didn't know they were a demon, if that's what your asking... What about you, robocop? Guns for hands?!" She looks around nervously, listening for sirens. Opening the car door and hopping in the driver seat, she calls out, "Hey, you shot it... in the head. You might wanna get lost before they get here."

“I need to talk to you.” Cyborg approaches her further. 

“Well get in, I’m not sticking around here.”

Frank is slowly lumbering behind her with the bagged up keyboard and guitar case thrown over his back. There are various stickers decorating it, “The Rejects”, “Save Us From Him”... Cyborg looks up at Frank, then back to Sheep, tossing a thumb over her shoulder, “Frank can ride too, right?”

"Uh... he can ride in the bed if he can hide under the tarp and promises not to touch anything in the trunk?"

Cyborg looks up at him, "Got that?" He nods and process to load the instruments and climb in himself, causing the suspension to creek. 

Cyborg sat in the passenger's seat, and after a moment of silence while Sheep pulled the truck onto the road she spoke up, “I’m not judging you... I fucking hate demons... ” She takes a breath, “It felt good to watch that thing die... But you went in after her even before the glasses came off... How'd you know what she was?"

"Sometimes you just know. Been doing thing a long time.. Like...." She took both her hands off the steering wheel and counted out something on her fingers; the truck started swerving to the left, into the other lane. "25 years!" Sheep grabbed the wheel with one hand and jerked it back. "Plus, I only walked over there to see if blue bonnet could spare some of whatever he'd downed before she came in!" She laughed, teeth glinting. "Got Lucky."

"You're a lucky person in general, huh?" Sheep feels Cyborgs eyeing you. "What got you so involved? With demons, I mean."

"Lucky person, huh? Maybe lucky enough to still be alive, sure." She kept laughing, but her eyes don’t have the same expression. "I don't know if you can consider having everyone you love murdered by a demon at 14 and living your life through dingy motels lucky. That's what got me involved. I have to find... him. The one who took my best friend away from me. I can't die until I find..." She trails off, white knuckling the steering wheel with one hand and putting the other over her mouth. She may or may not be crying. It's dark in the truck.

"Not a lot of people do what you do and live to tell about it... maybe you're not lucky... but you..." Cyborg turns to look out the window, "You are special." A moment passes and she turns back, "I'm worried about someone and I'm worried about how involved demons are in the whole thing and I can only do so much about it. Can you help?"

Sheep wipes her face in one downward motion, "This was supposed to be my down time." she says lowly, looking in disgust at her hand, now covered in the demon brains she forgot about. "But I guess that's over now anyways. Whatever. Usually I charge a fee but, I feel like we have more in common than I thought. Plus your gun hands are kinda scary... and if i'm being honest a bit of a turn on. Haw hah!" She grinned and her glinting teeth in the dim street lights.

Cyborg looks down at her hands and mumbles, "You even have his stupid laugh." 

Sheep's eyes soften a little, but she doesn't look away from the road. "Who's stupid laugh?" The question is genuine, unusual for her.

Cyborg slowly starts to laugh herself, "He-Hey, you wouldn't happen to have an estranged father would you?"

Then she shakes her head. "estranged? I wouldn't say estranged... but they never found his body so... I guess he is... missing. Was a terrible father anyway....Oh! Sorry. I'm oversharing, huh? I must be crashing again, doll." She reached into her coat pocket and pulled out a small bottle.

“... It’s ok.” Cyborg watched out the window for a while. "...Can you pull over? I need to show you something."

"Mhmmmm" Sheep mumbled, two fingers in her mouth. She wipes them on her jeans and turns to squint at the Cyborg. "That's not.. suspicious or anything. I don't know why I trust you this much..." Reluctantly, she pulls to the side of the road. Her eyes dilate and she takes a moment to squeeze them shut and opens them suddenly, a wild grin on her face. "HOOOAAAW. That's the stuff. Can we hurry this up? Don't want to be anywhere near that bar for a while..."

Cyborg sticks a bright glowing phone in your face, "You know this guy? He's fucking demon magnet, and if he says he's in jail because a demon framed him, than I believe him."

Sheep flinches backward a bit and squints, adjusting to the phone light in her face. It's a picture of Murdoc Niccals. THE Murdoc Niccals. She puts her hand on top of Cyborg's and gently lowers the phone. "Everyone knows who's Murdoc Niccals is, love." She keeps her hand there, "I don't know either of you well enough to trust ya, but I don't have anything better to do, anyway. Plus it seems like you care a lot about him.” She smiles, “I'm always a sucker for a sappy sob story, haw haw."

She takes back her hand and scowls, defensive, "Yeah, well, you could live under a fucking rock for all I know..." She relaxes a bit, "Wait, do you know me?"

Her lip curls up for a second in thought. " Based on all this," she gestures vaguely at the phone in Cyborg's hand. "I'm going to assume you're the cyborg Murdoc built on Plastic Beach. But i don't know much more than that. Like how you ended up in Tavern 23 shredding frets next to Frankenstein's keyboardist over there."

"Oh!" Her cheery exclamation is dripping with sarcasm, "After that I became 2nd chair to a fucking prodigal daughter... and for a little bit, a fucking house plant...." She groans, "Never mind, it doesn't matter... Murdoc was never a good person...he didn't treat me any better or worse then he treated anyone else, but... he's all I had. There was no reason for me to stick around once he got locked up." She took a deep breath and puffed up, "Protecting him is like, my job! That’s how it feels sometimes anyway and maybe that’s in my programming, I don't know, maybe it’s actually kind of fucked up, but I have to help him."

"Hey, hey. Listen. I get it. It's a job. You don't know why you do it, don't know why you haven't just given it up, you don't know why you even care, but you do. It's all you know, all you've ever known..." Sheep looks back at Cyborg with a sad smile and then licks her teeth with a longer than average tongue. "I try my best not to think about it too much. I just do my job. Can I interest you and Frankenchords a night on the couch in my current motel room? I'd really love to get the demon brain off my face. It’s getting... hard."

Cyborg thinks about it and then slowly relaxes back into her seat. "Thank you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustrations from this chapter (she wasn't really wearing that shirt this whole time, it's a joke):  
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> BTS from this chapter:  
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	3. The Devil and The Hierophant

In her constant prison patrol Para passes the rec room, where she finds Murdoc. Firstly, she made note that his mood is fine, a greenish yellow, almost the color of his skin. He doesn’t seem to notice her, invested in a movie playing on the television. Para doesn’t bother to see what is it. She was told everything but the weather report was fake, only created for entertainment of the prisoners. They told her about it, so it must be true. 

When she takes a few steps closer he looks up, "Oh hey, Ms. Robot!" He turns in his seat but doesn't stand, and leans in her direction. He puts a hand to the side of his mouth and whispers, "Still got my phone?"

"I'm a cyborg" She responds flatly, a bit confused by how he doesn't know the difference. 

"I'm aware." Murdoc gives her a look between scowling and rolling his eyes, "What am I supposed to call you? Are you Cyborg 836 or something?”

"My serial number is PA142r9a... But you may call me Para.” She lowers her voice, “I've got the device with me, but I don't think this is a safe place to get it out." She says as she glance down at her right leg. "Where do you propose we should go? Back to your cell?"

He looks back to the TV. A man on the screen says, "The greatest trick that the devil ever pulled, was to convince the world he doesn't exist." 

Murdoc mumbles, "Fine. Fine." As he stands and walks past her. 

Para watches him go and begins to follow until a human guard stops her, "Where you headed, PA14?" Murdoc continues walking.

Her first instinct is to tell him the truth, it's what she always does, she didn't really have a reason not to before, but this time there was hardly a loophole to the question. Her mind feels slightly hazy as it often did, but she realizes on some level that the situation is critical. She tries concentrating to clear the fog a bit and manages to keep her mouth shut, but something still keeps her from lying to my coworker. She throws a helpless look into Murdocs direction as he disappears around a corner. Sticking around to wait on her would be too suspicious. 

"It's not a difficult question..." The guard continues, confused."You need to get checked out or something? You heading to B-block or A?"

"I'm alright, there seem to be no problems with my system. I'm going to patrol block B if that's alright, sir." There. Not a lie.

He nods and carries on in the direction he was headed. Para lets out a breath and curiously looks down at her nervously twitching fingers. They never did that before. She usually had 100% control over her body... She didn’t take too long to think about it before setting back on her way to Murdoc’s cell.

He sits waiting on her, “Let’s see it, then.” He says in a loud, but whispery tone. 

She looks in the hall to be sure no one is around or coming, then in the cell she starts pulling down her trousers to get the phone from where she stuck it with a magnet to her upper thigh.

Murdoc frowns up at the ceiling, "How poorly have they prioritized your programing, mate? Not even a basic decency protocol?"

“… Basic… decency protocol? No.. but I don’t see the problem. Judging by the pictures on that phone other prisoners have no problem with the sight of a naked body.” Despite her words, now that Murdoc mentioned it she did feel a bit ..exposed, so she quickly takes the phone, pulls up her pants again then hands it over.

"Yes. Well." He takes the phone from her and immediately begins to type away, a grin beginning to form on his face.

She eyes her surroundings and then turns back to Murdoc, his expression makes her uneasy. It's probably the teeth... "Can I ask what exactly you are doing?"

"Oh, you know. Keeping the brand alive. Giving the fans what they want.... Me."

Right. Fans. She remembers some other inmate mentioning he was famous. His phrasing still puzzles her. "In what way do they 'want' you? Do you make Cyborgs for them?"

Murdoc looks up for the first time since Para handed him the phone, "No?! ... well." he looked to his right, "The band needed a guitarist, so I guess.." He trailed off, "No, they 'want' me because I'm the genius that brings them untouchable music and unmatched sex appeal." His grin returns as he turns his attention back to the phone.

She’s not quite sure what to think of that response so she stays quiet for short while. There's still something she’s curious about though. "So, if I understand correctly, you did build at least one, right? What happened to them?" 

His face falls into a scowl but it's clear he's barely paying attention to her, typing as he talks, "Oh no, I built loads. All of them, fully operational, totally successful, probably... CEOs now, who knows."

Other than not knowing what a C E O is, she senses that he's not being 100% genuine, there must be something more to it. "That's very impressive, does that mean they live outside like normal humans? The air doesn't kill them?"

Murdoc picks his head up to look at her bewildered, "What do you- What do you think you're BREATHING exactly?"

Para ducks her head a little, a bit surprised as he raises his voice. Her fingers start twitching again, and she has trouble thinking clearly. Something doesn't seem to add up. "I - I am not sure. They just told me the air outside is poisonous for me"

"Cy-... Para, there are windows. Have you seen the windows? The same airs out there as in here. Satan, this is sad." He looks almost disturbed.

Para feels a bit dizzy. What Murdoc said totally made sense, how did she never notice it before? But they wouldn't lie to her, would they? Does that mean she’d theoretically be free to go? Live among real humans? She takes a while trying to sort out her thoughts, pensively staring at the concrete floor in front of her.

After some failed attempts at making sense of this mess Para feels the familiar foggy feeling start to invade her head again. She feels calm. Everything is good. Very good. what was she worried about again?

_____

The night before; Blythe had made it to her truck, and started it with a shaky hand. She spun her tires in her haste to make it out of the tavern parking lot, and they squealed as she turned onto the street and sped away. 

She drove for a while before parking in the shadows behind a convenience store. For a moment, she just sat and stared into the darkness ahead of her, the silence making her ears ring, then, like a switch had flipped, she starts banging her hands on the steering wheel. "FUCK!" She stops and drops her hands into her lap, her head leaning back against the seat. 

After a while, Blythe pulls out her phone and the business card with Sheep's information. She types out a text message, "Met at the bar earlier. I have a job for you if you want it. Let's talk soon." She tosses her phone on the passenger seat and squeezes her eyes shut. Once this was all over, she was gonna climb into a proper bed and sleep for a week.

She wakes up in the early morning, with a crick in her neck. She sighs as she stretches as much as she can in the seat of her truck and attempts to loosen the tense muscles. After grabbing her phone and checking the time, 6:45am, she hops out of her truck, mind set on getting a cup of coffee from the store she'd parked behind. She enters the store and spends some time putting her coffee together, using a questionable amount of dairy-free powdered creamer to mask the burnt flavor of the day old brew. After grabbing a banana and a cellophane-wrapped blueberry muffin she pays and heads back out to her truck to listen to the morning news and eat her breakfast. On her radio, Humility plays.

Blythe scowls, remembering the singer's cocky attitude from the night before. Her appetite leaves her as a vivid image of blood splatter flashes in her memory and she sets her food aside before switching the radio off. She takes her tarot cards out of the center console and begins to shuffle them in an attempt to center herself. Three cards drop from the deck into her lap. She stares down at them with dread. The Hierophant. 9 of Swords. The Devil. 

She looks out the window at the brightening sky and sighs, when would she catch a break? She puts the cards back and picks up her phone to see if Sheep had answered her text yet. 

______

Sheep leans up against the headboard of the motel bed. She sees Cyborg on her phone sitting on the edge and smirks to herself about what happened last night. She grabs her own phone from the nightstand, There’s a message from a number not in her contacts that says, [Met at the bar earlier. I have a job for you if you want it. Let's talk soon.]

Sheep thinks back to whatever the fuck happened last night at said bar, trying to remember who she talked to besides Cyborg. Oh right, the other pretty girl. She smirks again. "Got a number and brought one home, nice one Sheep" she mumbles aloud. She responds to the text - [A job? I'm always game for a good time. ;) ]

Cyborg turns, “Hey.” She holds her phone to Sheep’s face. “Look.”

Sheep blinks a couple times and gently pushes the phone away from her nose. "Mornin' to you, too. So he's.. tweeting? You sure that's definitely him and not some PR stunt or--" Her phone buzzes, and she puts a finger up to Cyborg to check it. 

[Well, if running from the law and attempting to murder a high profile demon posing as a religious figure is your idea of fun then I'm the woman for you]

Sheep grins smugly and sticks her long tongue out between her teeth at the message, responding with, [Oh I already knew you were the woman for me when I caught your pretty face at Tavern 23. Plus, breaking laws and murdering demons is my favorite pastime, wouldn't miss it.]

"Oh, well yeah, it's definitely a PR stunt.. but it's him... Do you think I should, you know... try to talk to him. I should make a throw-away account or something." Cyborg seems to be talking to herself more than anything, turning away from Sheep and ignoring her finger.

Sheep looks up from her phone with a confused frown "A throw-away account? Isn't he like your dad, who you're trying to.. save or something? Why wouldn't you want him to know it was you? Actually, talking to him is probably a good idea."

Cyborg squints at her, opens her mouth to speak, closes, then opens again, "It's complicated... but yeah. I'll do that."

Sheep’s phone vibrates again. [Alright then smooth talker, let's meet up. I'm not super comfortable doing things over the phone.]

“... What are you doing?” Cyborg raises a brow.

Sheep chuckles. "I was just.. inviting over a friend. You're not the only one 'round here who wants me to drown their demons." She texts Blythe the hotel's address. 

Cyborg is distracted by her phone, “Oh. Wow. He actually responded... I said, 'Why do you need help?' because that's what he said last night and he said, 'Ah! To the point, good. Right so, as you've guessed, I'm in jail. Yes, I know, again." There was a small smile in her voice, "and normally, I wouldn't mind, Always happy to do a bit of bird. But this time it's different...'... he hasn't said anything else."

Sheep couldn't help the corner of her mouth turning up at the way she read the message. "He sure likes to put on a show, huh? That's not very helpful though..." 

"That's an understatement." 

She reaches down to the shirt she’d discarded on the floor last night and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of the chest pocket, nonchalantly realizing she was still topless and ignoring it. She looks at Cyborg with a cig hanging from her lips. "Got a light?"

She furrows her brow in confusion when Cyborg gives her a thumbs up until the tip releases a small flame. She leans in cautiously to let the flame light the cigarette, "Uh.. yea. Thanks, Robocop."

Cyborg laughs, "I use to watch that movie all the time when I was younger."

Sheep pushes her questions about android life cycles out her head, opting to just laugh along, "Huh, saw you as more of a "Terminator" fan, what with the gun elbows and all."

“Eh. More of a “Blade Runner” really... The book was better though.” 

The conversation begins to fall to silence. Sheep smokes and watches Cyborg frown at her phone, anxiously waiting for Murdoc to reply. He never does before there’s a knock on the door. Sheep freezes for a second and the walks over to the door. 

"What's the password?" she says, opening it as wide as the chain lock would allow, then swinging the door open."Haw haw! Just kiddin', of course. I'd recognize those shiny green eyes anywhere."

Blythe can't stop herself from grinning and cocking an eyebrow at the shirtless woman that opens the door. She folds her arms and huffs out a short laugh, "You're a riot." She waves her right hand in a gesture at the room behind Sheep, "You mind if I come in? While it's a fantastic look on you, I'm not too keen on being so exposed." 

Sheep looks confused and then down at herself, making an amused face and then wiggling her eyebrows. "My bad, doll. Make yourself at home, I'm sure you'll see some faces you recognize." Sheep gestures to Frank outside sitting up in truck bed and nods to him before turning inside and gesturing to Cyborg on the bed.  
She looks up from her phone at and her expression grows very confused, "Uh. Hey? What, do you have a demon problem too? Was that thing last night yours?"

Blythe steps into the room but almost immediately wishes she hadn't. Her shoulders stiffen and her blood runs cold as she makes eye contact with the cyborg, she drops her eyes for a moment, searching her body for any sign that she may be armed. When she speaks, her voice is low and sheltered, "I had nothing to do with what went down yesterday." She raises her eyes to establish eye contact, "But yeah, I've got my demons."

Cyborg sighs sarcastically as she turned back to her phone, "Don't we all."

Sheep looks off to the side awkwardly for a moment at the sudden tension in the room. Then shoves it down and forces a smile. "If I thought for a second either of you were up to something, you-” she points at Blythe “-would not be here right now, and you-” Cyborg “- wouldn't have been where you were last night." She accentuates that last part with a wink. "Speaking of demons, we should probably get on with that, huh."

"I... I still don't know what we're doing. He hasn't gotten back to me. I'm sure he's talking to a million other people and as far as he knows, I'm not important..."

Blythe shoots a questioning look at Sheep, "Don't tell me you're already working a job?" She runs a shaky hand through her bangs, "You're a busy woman..."

Sheep picks her button up t-shirt off the floor and puts it back on, but doesn't button it. She pulls another cigarette from the pocket. "Seems like it,” she smirks, cigarette dangling precariously. "Truthfully, I was supposed to be taking some time off. Guess I just can't turn down a pretty face, haw haw." She pats her jeans looking for the lighter she doesn’t have.

Blythe subconsciously licks her lips as the sight of a cigarette sends another nicotine craving through her, she pulls her lighter out of her jacket pocket and flicks it, holding the flame out for Sheep. "And how are we planning on juggling these two jobs?" She asks softly, "My situation is a bit complicated and probably time-consuming."

Cyborg laughs under her breath, and condescends, "You think yours is complicated." as she types a number into her phone from a business card she’d taken from her pocket.

Sheep leans in closer than necessary to let the flame hit the cigarette, letting the smoke flow from her mouth in curly wisps around Blythe's head, leaning in until they were face to face and looking her in the eye. "Oh, I don't know, dove, not like I've been handling jobs for say 25 years or anything," she says in a sarcastic tone.

"Ahem," Cyborg sounds a little disgruntled, "Can I bum one of those?"

Blythe ignores Cyborg and holds eye contact with Sheep as she leans in. She breathes in the cigarette smoke pouring from the other woman’s mouth and stills her nerves, "I'm sure you're more than qualified. Just wondering what your plan is."

Sheep smiles, so close now the tip of their noses touch, tongue poking out between sharp teeth, still clenching the cigarette. "You're damn right I am." she coos, then whirls around and flops down on the bed at Cyborg's sudden question, leaving Blythe’s unaddressed. "One of these?" she asks, wiggling the cigarette up and down with her tongue. "What for?"

".. to smoke?" she’s clearly annoyed.

Sighing and leaning back against the windowsill, Blythe chews on her bottom lip for a moment. She knows Cyborg doesn't want her there, though she can't figure out why. Maybe she should just have Sheep contact her when whatever she and the cyborg were doing was over.

Sheep looks embarrassed for a split second, then pulls out her pack, only to find it empty. She frowns for a moment before her face lights up in a mischievous smile. "Looks like I'm out, but if you need a fix, I have another way, c'mere." She shuffles closer toward Cyborg, turning to face her and sitting cross-legged on the bed, gesturing for her to follow suit. She does so and watches Sheep quizzically as she takes a long drag of her cigarette and holds her breath, sitting up on her knees. She puts her hand gently on the back of Cyborg's head, leaning in until their lips brush and opens her mouth, sharp teeth flashing as she slowly pushes the smoke out with her tongue, letting the Cyborg breathe it in. As she inhales she shoots a look to Blythe. 

She rolls her eyes. "Hey, so, are we gonna hash this out or should I come back at a better time?"

"Oh come now, don't be like that." Sheep pats the bed next to her. "Relax. You both need demons hunted, I'm willing to hunt them. No better time than right now, anyways. If I don't get some concrete jobs in the next couple hours I'm gettin' the hell out of Dodge and good luck findin' me then. Demons are demons. I'm sure we can get both jobs done. If you two can get along..."

Blythe ignores the invitation to sit on the bed and looks at Cyborg, "It's nothing personal... on my end anyway..." she mulls over her thoughts as she figures out the right words to say, "I've got, uh, some issues regarding firearms." She turns back to Sheep, "Guess its good to get that out in the open now if we're gonna be working together."

"Well, I'm a person, not a firearm, so no issue there." Cyborg looks up from her phone. 

Blythe scowls at Cyborg, "Literally just said it wasn't personal. I've got PTSD and your heroic stunt last night triggered it, my bad." Her face blazed from a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, what the hell was this chicks problem? "I don't know what I did to you, but clearly you've got something against me."

"Whew! Listen, you two are really bringin' down the mood in here. I'm gonna need a pick me up. You better duke it out before we get started because I can't work like this." She heads to the small table in the kitchen area of the room and rifles through her bag, pulling out a small bottle and settling at the table.

Cyborg stands, "I'm not stopping you from taking care of your thing, hell, I'll help if it'll get it done faster, just don't get in the way of mine." and she takes her phone with her to the bathroom. She sat on the closed toilet and turned off her audio input so she didn’t have to hear anything more from the two outside. She texts the number she’d received the night before. Lyanna’s. 

Blythe sighs in frustration, her neck hurt from sleeping in her truck and Cyborgs baffling attitude was giving her a headache. "Well won't the three of us make a wonderful team." She murmured sarcastically before flopping dramatically onto the bed, "I need a drink." There's a knock at the door.

Sheep squints at Blythe, “Were you followed?” She walks cautiously to the door, hand hovering above Tommy. “Who did you bring here? Fuck, Frankenstein’s pianist is out there..” She puts her other hand on the doorknob and presses an eye to the peephole and sees a young man with a zombie-esque skin tone in a nice suit holding a bible.

Blythe stands up, her hand reaching instinctively for the knife strapped to her thigh, "... I don’t... think so." She felt sick at the thought that they could be here and thought back to the message from the cards. "Wait... just to be safe, does this place have another exit?"

“Nope. Just this window.” Sheep points out the one right beside the door, “It’s.. it’s a boy? With a bible? Some kind of door-to-door savior salesman.”

She hears a small voice say through the door, "Do you have time to hear some good news today, miss?"

Blythe raises her eyebrows and shakes her head, "Nah, nope, tell him to scram."

Sheep puts her eye back to the peephole, hand still hovering over the tomahawk. She felt silly getting worked up over a kid, but better safe than sorry. “No thanks, kid!”

His bible comes crashing through the window, followed by him jumping in, snarling like a feral animal.

**Author's Note:**

> "The way is suspicious, the result uncertain, perhaps destructive"


End file.
